


Run away with us for the summer

by iwillnotbecaged



Series: Flying high without ever leaving the ground [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Sam Wilson, Fluff, Multi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillnotbecaged/pseuds/iwillnotbecaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Bucky convince Steve to take a break and go to London for a week. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run away with us for the summer

**Author's Note:**

> Last October I took myself on a trip to London. Everything went exactly as planned and it was perfect and lovely and made me extraordinarily happy. This fic is basically me gifting that trip to Sam, Steve, and Bucky. I've played fast and loose with things like geography and travel time, and any and all information about art has been shamelessly lifted from the Tate Modern website (the book covers are real though - I've added some pictures to the end notes).
> 
> Many many thanks to [machine_dove](http://archiveofourown.org/users/machine_dove), [Ragazza_Guasto](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragazza_Guasto), and [pringlesaremydivision](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision) for the input.
> 
> Title from "Take a Break" from _Hamilton_ because it's all I've listened to for the past 3 months.

“So, gentlemen, I have a proposition for you.”

Sam flops onto the end of the couch, landing directly on Steve and Bucky’s feet where they are tangled together. They grunt with the impact and the couch itself groans under the combined weight of three very large men. They really need to get moving on that whole get-Stark-to-buy-us-a-new-couch thing.

“Oh really?” Bucky wiggles an eyebrow lasciviously.

“Yeah, no, Buck. Keep it in your pants,” Sam jokes. “You know how Sarah’s taking Jody over to London to see his dad for a bit this summer? That sounds like the perfect opportunity for us to take a long weekend and travel somewhere that doesn’t involve covert spy missions or fighting aliens with tentacles.”

“Aw, c’mon Sam. The tentacle guys were actually quite nice once we got the magical translator thingamajig and figured out they weren’t trying to attack us.” Bucky shoves Steve up into a sitting position, sandwiched between him and Sam. “They were just looking for a nice place to lay some eggs and accidentally wound up on an already inhabited planet.”

“I’m not sure this is really a great time for a vacation. Kamala and Miles are finally starting to gel with the rest of the team, but what if something comes up? They aren’t ready to be in the field without us yet.”

“Steve, there’s never gonna be a great time with you. The Avengers can live without us for a few days and if the worst does come to pass, you know we can get a quinjet to come pick us up and get us wherever we need to be. We’re allowed to indulge ourselves a little bit.” Sam elbows him in the side. “Besides, when was the last time you were in London? 1944?”

“You know, the man has a point. It would be nice to see London when it’s not all bombed to hell and we have more than a few hours to enjoy ourselves.” Bucky looks up at Steve and bats his eyelashes. “C’mon, Stevie. Don’t Sam and I deserve a vacation? Don’t we deserve to enjoy some relaxing international travel with our best guy?”

Steve looks from Bucky to Sam, taking in the nearly identical puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. “You guys have been practicing that face together in the mirror, haven’t you?” The pouty lips just deepen and long, dark eyelashes blink pleadingly. He thinks Bucky might even be whimpering a little bit. 

“Fine!” Steve says, throwing up his hands. “We’ll go to London! But if New York gets destroyed by acid-spewing robots while we’re gone, I’m totally throwing you two under the bus and I won’t lose a minute of sleep over it.”

They pounce on him from either side, smothering his face with kisses.

 

Bucky mentions the trip to Pepper and the next day a gift basket is delivered to the apartment, full of guidebooks and an assortment of tacky items that Tony must consider “British”. While Bucky and Sam mess around with the selfie stick they found in the bottom of the basket, Steve opens the envelope inside and finds a flight itinerary for the Stark jet and very nice hotel reservations in central London. There’s also a note from Pepper telling them to enjoy their much deserved vacation, with an order from Tony to bring him "one of those fuzzy guard hats" scrawled across the bottom.

“C’mon Stevie, we need to take a selfie with the basket to send to Pepper!” Bucky wraps his right arm around Steve’s neck, his left arm extending the selfie stick in from of them. He adds a quick thanks and sends the picture to Pepper. Steve’s face might have looked exasperated to an outsider, but Pepper can tell he is trying to control a smile. 

“It’s my pleasure,” she responds. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”

Pepper’s travel arrangements give them a full week in London. The first four days will be spent with Sarah and Jody, mostly relaxing rather than sightseeing. This gives them the other three to do all the things they want to do. There are a lot of different options and they aren’t exactly seeing eye-to-eye on everything until Bucky finally puts his foot down. He doesn’t mind some good natured bickering, but anything that spills over into actual tension makes him uneasy.

“Alright, here’s the plan: we each get one day. On that day, all three of us do what that person wants to do and no one whines.” He points at Sam and then Steve. “You get the first day, and you get the second; I’ll plan the third. Problem solved.”

“Now look who’s the man with the plan!” Sam teases. “Should we get you a star-spangled outfit to match Steve’s?”

Bucky just glares in response. Steve comes around the table where they’ve spread out all the guidebooks and their laptops and slings an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and kisses his temple. “That’s a great idea, baby. I’m glad we have you to look out for us.”

“Quit patronizing me, asshole.” Bucky shoves him away, but the look in his eyes is fond. “Go plan how you’re gonna bore me and Sam to death.”

 

Flying on the Stark jet is quite the experience and they definitely don’t want to see the price tag on their hotel room. It’s gorgeous, but that first night all they have eyes for is the giant bed in the middle of the room. All three of them drop their bags, and collapse into their normal pile of tangled limbs for a good night’s sleep.

The four days with Sarah and Jody fly by. Sam is glad to have the opportunity to get to know Jody’s dad a little bit better since he hadn’t been back for very long when Deion got the job offer in England. It was an opportunity that was too good for him to pass up, but Sarah hadn’t been willing to abandon her career in New York, and Deion understood that. Sam had been impressed with how well Sarah and Deion handled the split and everything that went along with it. Even Gideon had been mostly supportive, although Sam could tell there was a small part of him that thought Sarah should have moved with Deion.

Jody doesn’t get to see his dad very often, but they Skype once a week, so Deion knows him pretty well. Watching them interact in person, it’s clear that Deion loves his son and Sam is glad to see that he isn’t afraid to show it. Any lingering doubts Sam may have had are banished when they watch _Inside Out_ one evening and Deion doesn’t even bother to pretend he isn’t crying. Jody’s an emotional kid and Sam is relieved that his father isn’t going to try and squash that.

It’s good to be around family, but Sam is excited when it’s finally just the three of them. He’s looking forward to the plans he has for their first day in London, especially since they all agreed ahead of time that there would be no whining. Sam is going to wholeheartedly embrace his tourist status and he fully intends to drag Steve and Bucky along with him.

Sam and Steve wake up at about the same time and together they drag Bucky into consciousness with kisses and coffee. Bucky’s been forewarned about the early start, but the caffeine definitely makes the “no whining” part a lot easier (the kisses don’t hurt either). Sam has the day jam-packed with sightseeing, so after breakfast he ushers his two boyfriends out of the hotel and right onto one of the giant red tour buses that crawl through the city like ants. 

The bus takes them past the Marble Arch and through Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square. They get off at practically every stop, taking the time to look around and pose for increasingly ridiculous pictures with statues. Sam makes a point to find the Peter Pan statue in Kensington Gardens because he knows Bucky loved the book as a kid and all three of them agree that _Hook_ is a work of cinematic genius.

They make it to Buckingham Palace in time for the Changing the Guard ceremony, after which Bucky does his very best to get the guards to react. Sam and Steve pull him away when he resorts to whispering embarrassingly lewd comments, much to Bucky’s annoyance.

“I almost had him! He was definitely about to smile, but no, you just had to drag me away.”

“Whatever you say, Bucky,” Sam laughs.

They grab lunch at a pub and then make their way over to Westminster Abbey. It’s closed to the public when they get there, but the sun is out so they lay together in the grass for a bit, just enjoying the company. They walk over to Westminster Palace and Big Ben, sometimes with hands clasped, sometimes with arms around waists, generally just being obnoxiously affectionate and blocking the sidewalk by walking three across. The selfie stick gets used liberally, although Steve doesn’t look quite as amused by it as Sam and Bucky.

“Aw c’mon, Steve. Would it kill you to smile?” Bucky gripes.

“Nah, leave him be,” Sam says, not removing his arm from around Steve’s waist. “You know these are gonna hit the internet eventually and we can’t have the public finding out the truth.”

“What truth is that? That our Stevie here isn’t actually a stoic old man who spends most of his time grumbling about ‘kids these days’?”

“Exactly.” Sam gives Steve a peck on his slightly blushing cheek. “The world can have Captain America. Fun-loving, sarcastic little shit Steve Rogers is all ours.”

Steve’s blush deepens as he wraps both Sam and Bucky into a hug. “You two are ridiculous and I love you so much.” He releases them and looks at Sam. “So where are you taking us next?”

“Up in the sky, of course,” Sam replies with a wink.

 

The view from the London Eye is incredible. They don’t talk much during the ride, just an occasional comment to point out an interesting sight and a small joke about the Cyclone. Even surrounded by other tourists chattering in a variety of languages, there’s something peaceful about being that high above the earth. It’s not as good as his wings, but Sam can still feel that small piece of him that never quite seems to fit when he has both feet on the ground slotting into place. 

Sam shifts his eye up to the horizon, looking across the giant city rather than down. He thinks for a moment about all the people in all those buildings, walking down the busy streets, in the underground below the city. How small they all are in the grand scheme of things, but how much the details of their lives matter to each of them. How big and momentous his life has felt recently, but how tiny he really is. 

He knows that a lot of people would find his train of thought terrifying or upsetting, but Sam finds freedom in it. His work is to do the best he can with the little details of the lives he can impact. And while the number of lives he can impact may have gone up when he threw his lot in with Captain America and became an Avenger, it’s still finite, it’s still not the whole world. The sky was there long before him and it will be there long after him; it’s not his job to hold it up. 

 

The last item on Sam’s agenda for the day is dinner and a show. He made reservations for them around the corner from the theater, so they have plenty of time to relax and enjoy their food and some drinks.

“You ever going to tell us what we’re seeing tonight?” Steve asks, finishing off the last of his drink.

“Patience, Rogers. You’ll find out when we get there.”

“I just want to know what I’m getting myself into here. My past experiences with show business haven’t always been the most pleasant.”

“Aw, Steve, don’t say that! You looked so great up there in that sweater and those tights and the helmet with the adorable little wings on the sides. You were a natural!”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You never even saw me perform on stage.”

“True, but I definitely spent a lot of time imagining it after you rescued me in that outfit. Those tights couldn’t help but make a man want to salute the flag, if you know what I mean.”

Steve groans, but Sam just talks over him. “And don’t forget that Stark showed him the movies you starred in. You know, to try and jog his memory after we found him.”

“Now that was some quality cinema! Is what we’re seeing tonight gonna be as good as those?” Bucky turns to Sam.

“What we’re seeing tonight is award-winning and critically acclaimed, so yes, I can safely say it will be better than Steve’s war propaganda. Now finish up; we need to get to our seats.”

Sam leads them around the corner and there are two sets of raised eyebrows when they see the title on the marquee. He assures them they’ll love it and ushers them into the Adelphi to see _Kinky Boots_.

The story of Charlie and Lola is right up their alley and all three of them have a great time. It’s a perfect end to the day: Sam gets to spend two and a half hours watching excellent theater with Bucky’s arm around him on one side and Steve holding his hand on the other. And if Bucky leans over during the finale and whispers in his ear about where they might find a pair of those boots for Steve, well, that’s just between them.

 

The three men get a later start the next morning, although Bucky insists that it’s still too early. Their first stop for the day is the British Museum and since it’s not too far from the hotel, they decide to walk. Sam and Steve make up the majority of the conversation on the way, with Bucky trailing slightly behind and grunting into his coffee occasionally. 

He’s so quiet they don’t actually realize they lost him for a minute until he catches up to them at the gates of the museum.

“Sorry.” He finishes off his coffee and tosses it in a trash can. “I got distracted by a window display, but I now have yet another awesome place on my list for tomorrow.”

They head into the museum and spend a few moments just marvelling at the architecture. Steve seems completely mesmerized by the Great Court and they haven’t even made it to any of the exhibits. He finally shakes himself out of his stupor and they begin to wander through the different rooms. It turns out Steve is the kind of person who reads each and every plaque, so it’s pretty slow going.

They make it through most of the Egypt exhibition, stopping for a bit longer at the Rosetta Stone.

“I remember learning about this in history class,” Steve says, awestruck. “A soldier in Egypt finds a rock and all of a sudden a whole portion of human history that was lost is right at our fingertips.” Steve’s expression shifts and he clenches his jaw. “It shouldn’t be here, though. The Egyptians asked for it to be returned, but the museum refused. Really most of the artifacts here should be returned - they don’t belong to the British.”

Bucky tugs him gently away from the display case. “I know, Steve. But that’s not a problem that Captain America can solve today, so let’s just enjoy the trip. That Celtic exhibition you were talking about earlier is this way.”

They visit a few more exhibitions and then head towards the Tate Modern. Steve chatters the whole way about how it’s one of the best modern art museums in the world and the Civil War collection has gotten rave reviews and he can’t wait to see the Georgia O’Keeffe paintings.

“Her stuff is amazing! The way she used gendered imagery in not only her flower paintings, but also her landscapes is just mind-blowing. You guys are going to love it.”

Bucky and Sam exchange a skeptical look at that, but they both love seeing Steve so excited, waving his arms as he talks and bouncing around the sidewalk like a golden retriever puppy.

When they get to the museum, it becomes obvious that Steve could spend days there. He stops at every piece, taking it in and reading the accompanying information and then studying it some more. Sam thinks he understands a few of the pieces but most of them seem bizarre. He’s trying to be positive for Steve’s sake, but then they walk into a room full of canvases that are all painted a single color.

Steve is across the room gazing at one of the pieces that is literally just a bunch of white paint on a white canvas as if it were the Mona Lisa. Bucky comes up behind him and at least has the sense to keep his voice low.

“This is art? I could make this. I’m pretty sure _Lucky_ could make this.” Sam tries to cover his laugh with a cough, but it doesn’t really work.

Steve looks over at them and his face shutters. He balls his hands into fists in his pockets.

“We can go,” he tells them. “We should probably get some lunch soon anyway.”

“Steve, no,” Bucky says. “You just got here! You haven’t even gotten to see those flower paintings you were talking about. I mean, I assume you haven’t right? Or are some of these supposed to be flowers?”

Steve sighs, visibly trying to unclench his jaw. “You guys obviously aren’t interested in this. Really, we can just leave.” He starts to head towards the exit.

Sam reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand. “No way, man. I saw you looking this stuff up online weeks ago. We had a deal; when it’s your day, you pick and we don’t whine. I’m sorry we didn’t hold up our end of the bargain.”

“I’m sorry too, Stevie.” Bucky takes his other hand and kisses his knuckles. “I know you love this stuff. And you’ve told me before that I would get it if I just listened. So we’re here and we’re listening. Will you explain it to us?”

Steve’s face softens. He’s perfectly able to stay mad at them when he wants to, but he doesn’t really want to right now. He squeezes both their hands and starts to explain.

“Well, this particular collection is titled ‘Monochromes’. The paintings don’t have subjects or multiple colors on purpose. Using a single color draws attention to the physical properties of the work. See there?” He points at one in particular. “You can actually see the individual brush strokes and how the painter used them to create texture because there’s no color to distract you.”

Steve continues on in a low voice, expounding upon Manzoni’s exploration of the concept of “nothingness” and Goeritz’s rejection of individualism and materialism. His passion for the subject makes him a good teacher and as he talks, Sam can feel the movement in Calder’s mobiles the way he feels the movement of his wings. Bucky has an unexpectedly strong reaction to Rebecca Horn’s _Hospital Drawings_ and stands in front of them for a long time running his hand over the metal plates in his arm. It’s only when their stomachs start growling that they realize they’ve completely lost track of time.

 

Steve rushes them through lunch because apparently they have an appointment that afternoon. They arrive at Firepower: The Royal Artillery Museum and Bucky basically loses his mind. There are guns dating back to the 14th century and from all over the world, along with a vast collection of everything from ammunition to bayonets to artillery instruments. Steve follows behind Bucky as he rushes from display to display, hands in his pockets and a hint of smugness in his smile.

“Nicely done,” Sam says, elbowing him gently. “He looks like a kid in a candy store. Or well, like himself in a candy store. You did good.”

Steve keeps one eye on Bucky and smiles at Sam slyly. “Oh just wait. This isn’t even the best part.”

 

“I can’t believe you, you little shit!” Bucky punches Steve’s shoulder. “A private showing? They just _happened_ to need to do routine testing of some of the coolest guns in history while we were there?”

“What can I say? Right place at the right time, I guess.” Steve grinned.

“You are so full of shit!” Bucky grabbed him around the neck and shook him.

“Alright, alright! It turns out that Captain America has the ability to pull some strings in England too.” Satisfied with that admission of guilt, Bucky releases him. 

“Come on. One more stop today.” Steve runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt fix the damage Bucky caused and leads the way to the tube station.

 

When they resurface, Steve checks his phone and then points them in the right direction. They stop in front of a concrete building with a bright blue sign reading “Wimbledon Sewing Machine Co. Ltd.”

Sam looks up and down the street. “You sure this is the place, Steve?”

“Yep.”

“Is there a reason we’re standing in front a sewing machine store?”

“Yep.” Steve is giving him that innocent look that works so well on the public, but which Sam and Bucky knows means he’s got something up his sleeve.

“You gonna tell us why?” Sam asks.

“Clearly he’s got his reasons. Why don’t we go in and see?” Bucky holds the door open for them. 

Steve walks in first and leads them through the front of the shop to another doorway off to the right. “Here we are!” Steve announces, obviously pleased with himself.

The plaque to the side of the door informs them that “here” is the London Sewing Machine Museum. Sam walks in and discovers exactly what you might expect from a place with that name: a room full of sewing machines. He starts to walk down one of the aisles, looking at the various antique machines.

“Don’t get me wrong, Steve, these are really cool,” Sam says hesitantly. “But why exactly are we here?”

“Well, you’ve mentioned a few times recently when you see me drawing that you wish you could do something creative.” Steve proud smile slips a little bit. He takes Sam’s hand and rubs his thumb against the back of it. “I figured maybe this could help spark that interest again,” he says with a shrug.

Sam doesn’t say anything; he just stares. Steve’s shoulders seem to sink in on themselves. “It was a dumb idea. Sorry, I just thought—”

Whatever Steve was going to say seems irrelevant now that Sam’s lips are on his. The kiss is warm and sweet, and Steve melts into it. Sam breaks the kiss but stays close, leaning his forehead against Steve’s.

“It’s perfect,” he whispers. “It’s perfect, and I love you, you wonderful, thoughtful man.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Steve gives him a relieved smile.

They walk around the museum for a while, but it’s not very big and before long they’ve seen just about all there is to see. Things still feel a bit too serious though, so Steve does what he can to get them back into relaxed vacation mode.

“You know, I almost took you to the Fan Museum instead. I thought maybe you could get some ideas for the new wings you’ve been working on with Tony, but this seemed like a better idea.”

“Wait a minute,” Bucky interrupts. “A fan museum? Like, paper fans? Mechanical fans? Or is it fans of celebrities, that kind of thing?”

“It’s paper fans, and I had no idea you would be so intrigued. Should I have taken you there instead of to the Artillery Museum?”

“Well, no, but shit. An entire museum just for fans? You can’t blame a guy for being interested.”

“It’s not that far from here,” Sam says, looking down at his phone. “And according to the website, it’s open for another hour.”

“Perfect! Whaddaya say, Stevie? Is there anything left on your list, or do you want to go look at some fans?”

“Nah, I’m good, Buck.” Steve wraps his arms about both of their waists and leads them out of the museum. “Let’s go look at some fans.”

 

Later that night, after another nice dinner and a barely avoided fight in a pub — 

“He was bothering those girls, Buck!”

“I’m well aware of that, Stevie, but he was also already backing off when he saw us and you had at least 50 pounds on him. That’s not exactly a fair fight.”

— Sam comes up behind Steve while he stands at the bathroom counter and puts his arms around his waist.

“Did you enjoy your day?”

Steve covers Sam’s hands with his own. “Of course I did. Did it seem like I didn’t?”

“Just making sure.” Sam gives the nape of his neck a small kiss. “Today was supposed to be all about you, but then we spent the whole afternoon on things for me and Bucky. We could’ve gone to another art museum or made it out to the Tower of London, which I know you wanted to see.”

Steve turned around in Sam’s arms and looked down at him. “I know we could have. And I did give myself most of the morning at the Tate.”

Sam grimaces a bit at the reminder. “Sorry again about that.”

“Already forgiven.” Steve gives him a small kiss. “When I was planning what I wanted to do today, I thought about trying to get to every art museum in the city. I had a list of what I wanted to see at each one and a strategic travel plan to maximize our time and everything.” 

Sam chuckles at that. Of course he did. 

“But then I realized that I would enjoy watching the two of you be surprised and happy more than I would enjoy looking at any particular piece.”

Sam looks at him like he’s trying to puzzle out the mysteries of the universe. “I will never know what I did to deserve you.”

Steve shrugs. “Taking me in when I was a fugitive and risking your life to help me take down the helicarriers and then hanging around to help me find Bucky may have had something to do with it. Plus there’s also the fact that looking at you is basically the same thing as looking at a work of art.”

“That is a terrible, terrible line, Steve.” Sam tries to keep the disapproving look on his face, but he’s not very successful.

“You know you love my terrible lines,” Steve says, leaning in for another kiss. This one is longer and deeper and they only break apart when they’re interrupted by a shout from the bedroom.

“You two done being saps, yet? It’s my turn tomorrow, and I want both of you well-rested.”

Sam and Steve exchange a look and then charge into the room together to tackle Bucky on the bed and cover him with sloppy kisses.

 

Before they fall asleep, Bucky’s insists that their last day must start with lazy morning sex and that no one will leave the bed before 10:00 am.

“What about coffee?” Steve asks.

“You may leave the bed to bring us coffee, but only after blowjobs. And you must get back in bed to drink the coffee.” Bucky nuzzles into the back of Steve’s neck. “Now hush, we’re sleeping.”

 

They wake up the next morning to sunlight peeking in through the crack in the curtains and the sounds of the city outside. Bucky gets them arranged through a series of sleepy grunts and nudges with lots of kissing in between. Sam sits up against the headboard and holds Bucky close to his chest for maximum cuddles. Steve makes his way down Bucky’s chest, meandering off to different places before stopping between his thighs. The noises coming from below are obscene, but oh so delicious. 

“All this enthusiasm is the only good thing about you being a morning person, Stevie,” Bucky teases between moans and kisses from Sam.

Steve lifts his head and smirks. “If you’re still talking, clearly I’m not enthusiastic enough,” he says and then dives back in.

Steve and Bucky trade places eventually, and Sam takes full advantage of his access to Steve’s neck and mouth, just as he had when he had Bucky cradled in his lap. For what feels like the millionth time, he thanks whoever’s up there listening for these two men. He never thought he would find one person who would put in the effort to create a rhythm that would work with him, let alone two. But here he is, getting and giving exactly what he needs without any pressure for more. God, he loves them.

 

Bucky eventually allows them out of bed and they head off on what they are lovingly calling the “nerd tour” of London. They first head back to the window display that had caught Bucky’s eye outside the British Museum and snapchat Natasha a series of pictures with increasingly odd book titles. 

Sam sends one of _Satan: A Portrait_ on the shelf next to _What You Have Eaten in Norway_ , which features a lovely drawing of a moose being threatened by a man with a knife and a chef’s hat. There’s one of Steve with his best innocent face, holding _Scouts in Bondage_ , while Bucky opts for _The Hunting Horn: What to blow and how to blow it_. All three of them squeeze in the frame for a selfie with _Wrestling for Gay Guys_ , complete with cartoon wrestlers on the front, and Natasha sends back a curious face with the caption, “Did they use Steve as the model?”

Steve’s just sends a picture of the cover of _The Book of Repulsive Women_ and is relieved when Nat is laughing in her response instead of glaring.

From there, they head over to Charing Cross Road. They stroll leisurely down the street, popping in and out of the various antique and specialty book shops. Bucky’s wandering through the shelves of one of the labyrinthine stores, trying not to knock anything over, when Steve calls him over.

“Look, Buck!” Steve towards the display case.

Bucky walks over to see what Steve’s pointing at. His jaw drops and it’s only with great effort that he restrains himself from pressing his hands and nose up against the glass. “Is that a first edition?”

“Which one are you looking at?” the old man asks from behind the counter.

Bucky’s still staring uselessly, so Steve answers him. “The H.G. Wells. _The Time Machine_.”

“Ah yes, that’s a beautiful book, isn’t it? It is a first edition. It’s unsigned, though.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Could I, could I take a look at it?” Bucky stammers.

The man unlocks the case and places the book gently in Bucky’s hands. The pages are a little bit yellowed with time, but the book’s in excellent condition. Bucky strokes the front cover, his mind far away and in a different time.

Bucky feels Steve’s arm slip around his waist. “I read this to you when you were sick. It always made you so mad - you said that if _you_ were writing a book about the future, you wouldn’t have society falling apart and the earth dying.‘No one’s inspired to make the world better by stories about how it’s all just going to burn up anyway,’ you used to say.”

“Yeah, I remember. And you would always tell me to lighten up and enjoy the story.” Steve kisses Bucky’s temple and squeezes him just a little bit closer. “You should get it. We can reread it together.”

“Hey Sam,” Bucky calls. Sam pokes his head around one of the shelves. “You ever read _The Time Machine_?”

“Nope. I read _War of the Worlds_ in high school, but I never got around to that one.”

“Alright then.” Bucky turns to the shopkeeper. “We’ll take it.”

 

The next stop is Daunt Books, and it’s even more beautiful than the pictures Bucky had shown them online. Steve immediately gets sucked in by a display of Penguin’s Great Ideas series. He flips through Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s “We Should All Be Feminists” while Sam heads to the kids section to look for something for Jody and Bucky goes to the fiction shelves.

Half an hour later, Steve and Sam are reminding Bucky that even private jets have weight limits and he can’t just buy the entire store. 

“Plus we already have an entire set of Agatha Christie books, Buck.” Steve finishes paying for the books they are buying and gathers up the bags.

“I know we do, but they look so nice on the shelf. Why do the UK editions have to be so much prettier?” Bucky whines.

“Even if we shipped them back home, I’m not sure we actually have the shelf space for another set of her entire works,” Sam points out, shepherding Bucky out the front door.

“Ugh. Why do you have to spoil all my fun?”

“Aw, c’mon. Cheer up - don’t you remember the next spot on your list?”

Bucky’s eyes light up at the reminder. “Platform 9 ¾!”

When they get to King’s Cross, all three of them are glad to see they are far from the only adults in the line to take pictures. In fact, most of the line actually seems to be people in their mid-20s. As they wait their turn, Steve and Bucky continue their ongoing argument.

“Steve, you cannot ask for the Gryffindor scarf. I know you think you’re a Gryffindor, but you’re not. You’re a sneaky little fuck who lied six times to try and enlist in the army. You’re totally a Slytherin.”

“I am not a Slytherin! I didn’t try to join the army so many times because I was ambitious, I did it because it was the right thing to do! Sam, back me up.”

“You already know my answer. If the Sorting Hat let Harry have a say in picking Gryffindor, you can pick Gryffindor too. Even if you would also fit in Slytherin.”

Sam hears Bucky launch into his well-rehearsed “but there’s nothing wrong with being in Slytherin” tirade as he steps forward and wraps himself in the black and yellow Hufflepuff scarf. He turns back and interrupts him just as Bucky’s starting to really pick up steam.

“Hey, quit arguing and get over there and take my picture!”

They finish taking pictures (Steve in the maroon and yellow scarf after all) and buy gifts for their friends at the shop, then head back towards the center of the city.

 

The last stop on Bucky’s list is 221B Baker Street and the Sherlock Holmes museum, but when they get there the line to get in is trailing down the sidewalk. All of them are feeling the effects of two and a half days of near constant crowds, so they just take a few more pictures with the selfie stick and then head across the street to Regents Park.

They’ve managed to luck into another day of sunny weather, so they lay together in the grass and read their books for awhile. Reading turns into napping, limbs intertwined so that each of them is touching the other two in some form or fashion. Bucky blinks awake at one point and turns to see Steve staring up at the sky. Sam’s still asleep, head pillowed on Steve’s chest and arm thrown across him to hold Bucky’s hand. It looks like Steve has been crying.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“We never really got to do this.”

“Sleep on the ground? I seem to remember plenty of that during the war.”

Steve looks over and gives him a small smile. “No, not sleep on the ground. Relax. Go on vacation. Just be.” He turns his face back up to the sky. 

“I mean, I know it wasn’t all bad. We had plenty of good times in between being sick and working all the time and getting into fights. But there was always something to worry about. And then there was the war and the dying and the not being dead and the alien invasion and the fighting the government and the looking for you and the learning to be okay and in all of that there was never just...this.” He waves vaguely in the air.

“It’s nice, is all. To get away and have some fun without worrying about what’s going to happen tomorrow. To just exist for a while.” He turns back to meet Bucky’s eyes and smiles.

“Today was a great day, Buck. Thanks for planning it.”

 

The sun begins to set and they decide to go to the hotel and change before dinner. Pepper’s gift basket had included reservations for their last night and any restaurant Pepper had picked probably didn’t want them showing up in t-shirts with grass stains.

The food is delicious and they linger at the table, talking and laughing and wishing the vacation didn’t have to end. Finally they head back to the hotel and spend the rest of the night wrapped up in each other.

Morning comes too early, even for Steve, but they need to get back to New York. There’s less chatter, but a lot of casual touches as they move around the hotel room packing up their clothes and souvenirs. Eventually everything’s ready to go and before they know it they’re back on Stark’s plane flying over the Atlantic.

Bucky’s reading one of the books he bought before and Sam is dozing next to him, headphones in his ears. Steve is facing them with his tablet out, starting the unwelcome task of catching up on email and checking the headlines from the past week. A few hours into the flight, he gets their attention.

“So, I’m looking at the training and press schedules—”

“Steve, come on,” Bucky interrupts. “Let us enjoy the last few hours before we start talking about strategies and press conferences and all that shit.”

“Just hear me out. I’m looking at the schedules and it looks like we’ve got a slow week towards the end of January. The weather in New York is probably going to be terrible then, so I’m thinking maybe we can find somewhere in South America or the Caribbean?”

“Steve Rogers, as I live and breathe! Are you actually willfully planning to take time off?” Bucky’s teasing him, but the look in his eye is warm and fond.

“Aw, you know how he is, Bucky. The star-spangled man with a plan can’t just leave vacations up to chance!” Sam knocks Steve’s knee with his own and wraps his foot around the back of Steve’s ankle.

Steve sighs and tosses Sam the tablet. “Shut up, assholes, and look at these resort options.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here are those book covers I told you about:
> 
>  
> 
>  


End file.
